On Halloween Night
by Wichita29x
Summary: AU. Haymitch took her against the car. It wasn't his style nor was he used to it, but he didn't care. It felt right, here in the middle of nowhere, surrounded only by desert and weeds. "Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?" he prompted, tugging playfully on her long locks, making her gasp.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: All of my stories are based on the movies/actors, not on the books._

* * *

 **On Halloween Night**

"Right."

"No, left."

"We've driven around the fucking block three times already, Chaff; I'm not turning left again." With squealing brakes, Haymitch stopped the car at the roadside. "I'm done!"

"Do you know what your problem is?" Chaff replied coldly. "You have no faith in others. That happens when you sit all alone at home writing books."

Haymitch snorted angrily. "I'm an author, Chaff! It's my job to sit at home and write; I get paid for it."

In the darkness of the car, both men exchanged glances, until Haymitch turned his face away and let his eyes wander over the dull street canyons. Since their arrival in Los Angeles, the world had successfully conspired against them.

Soon after landing, Haymitch's old smartphone had run a long overdue update, with a final request to enter the password. That password was safely stored on the other side of the country, buried under a pile of papers and books on his old wooden desk.

Later, at the car rental office, Chaff had fallen in love with an old-fashioned Cadillac, unfortunately without a navigator. Soon afterwards, as Chaff was forced to realize he couldn't cope with his brand-new iPhone, both men failed to discover a road map in the glove compartment, and a single missed exit was enough to get them lost in the endless streets of L.A.

"We're just asking for directions," Chaff said easily.

"Are you crazy?" Haymitch snarled. "We don't know which part of town we're in. The first person we ask will kill us."

Sadly, Chaff shook his head, looking pitifully at his friend. "Have you forgotten what day it is? Halloween. On such an evening only nice families are out and about."

Forgotten?

How could Haymitch have forgotten this? Totally annoyed, he looked into the rear-view mirror of the car, seeing only a small part of his face and hairline. He couldn't say which was worse, his bizarre face makeup or the greasy greenish hairline.

"Go on, drive on to the next street corner," instructed Chaff, pointing. "I'm sure we'll meet some families there.

...

She could see the car from afar. An old-fashioned red Cadillac, unusual even for California in the cool season. Probably tourists who'd lost their way in the endless traffic jungle, she thought, slowly chewing her pink-colored gum.

Since her arrival in the City of Angels nearly one year ago, Katniss Everdeen had cleaned more tables and glasses in bars and coffee shops than she could ever have imagined.

Selling hot dogs and ice cream to countless tourists on Venice Beach, babysitting annoying kids of unknown celebrities, until one of the _lovely_ family fathers couldn't keep his hands to himself and she had to stop him with a hard kick to his groin...

No, she couldn't blame herself for having tried everything, but at home the money kept getting shorter and her little sister's messages and calls more desperate.

She could still hear the kind-hearted words of her old acting teacher from Kentucky. How many times had Mr. Snow told her that she had a great, rare talent? That the whole world was waiting for her, and that she should try her luck and move to Hollywood.

Taking her chances, Katniss had bid goodbye to her family and friends, had thrown her worn-out suitcase into her old Ford and headed for California. Of course, she had known it would be hard to be one among thousands, running from casting call to casting call, living off cheap cans of beans and doing terrible jobs for next to no money.

But no matter which audition she had attended, she had been either too beautiful or too ugly, too fat or too thin, too small or too tall, her nose too long or too short – the list was simply endless.

Finally, she had sworn to herself, if she couldn't get at least one role by the end of the year, she would hitchhike home, after having sold her old shabby car for a handful of dollars some months ago.

Sighing, she focused on the present. She knew that what she was planning to do was stupid, but her small family needed the money desperately.

No-one would ever know what happened tonight; the thought was the only thing that stopped her from turning on her high heels and running away as she pulled down the low-cut neckline of her mini dress as the Cadillac stopped beside her.

Clumsily, the car's passenger window was wound down.

"Excuse me, Miss, could you help us?"

Before the evening had begun, she had asked herself countless times what her clients might look like - bored daddies, drug addicts or fat tourists - it hadn't occurred to her that she'd end up meeting a madman wearing a Batman costume.

"Yeah?" Katniss asked cautiously, stepping back from the roadside and looking suspiciously into the dark car.

Her eyes wandered from Batman to a brightly painted Robin in the driver's seat. Stop, wrong, she thought, instead of Batman and Robin, she had the honor of meeting Batman and the Joker tonight.

"Sorry, Miss, we're tourists and we've lost our way. Could you please be so kind as to tell us the quickest way to Hollywood?"

"What?" Katniss asked, sounding pretty dense as she stared through the open window.

"Beverly Hills," Chaff repeated, stretching each syllable as if he was speaking to a toddler.

And suddenly, the girl could see her chance. "How much money do you have?"

"What?" Chaff asked, surprised, pulling the dark mask off his face. "Miss, we're lost and need your help, so do you know the way to Beverly Hills or not?"

"Sure!" Katniss said, more confidently than she felt, leaning with her bare arm against the open window, and looking from one to the other, still chewing her pink gum. "For money, always!"

Haymitch snorted loudly while his sharp eyes found hers in the darkness. "Let's go, Chaff; I told you a girl in a slutty costume wouldn't be any help."

The young woman pulled in a sharp breath, frowning at the Joker. "Okay, guys, here's the deal. I'll show you the way to Beverly Hills. For 500 dollars. Personally!"

Haymitch laughed humorlessly. "You know what, sweetheart? Where we come from, we can get that kind of information for free."

Yes, Katniss thought, where I come from too. But with charity alone, the bills would never get paid.

"So, how are we doing this?" she asked, not giving an inch of ground. "Do you have so much money?"

Groaning, Chaff slowly pulled out his scuffed wallet and flipped through the notes.

"Do you have a few dollars, Mitch?" he asked, turning to his friend.

Haymitch glanced away, and shook his head in disbelief. "Ask Mademoiselle if she takes Euros as well." he snarled.

...

"Turn right after the second traffic light and follow the street until you will see the first road sign for Beverly Hills."

After getting 400 dollars in cash and the rest in Euros – the result of a long poker night, according to the Joker – she had got into the Cadillac. Katniss's intuition told her that the two men were harmless even if they looked bizarre.

Chaff turned around, glanced down at her long naked legs and gave her big smile. "Lovely Halloween costume, Miss, what's it supposed to be?"

"I don't know…" she replied lamely, her eyes scanning the busy street. "Maybe Black Widow?"

Haymitch looked into the rear-view mirror and met her eyes, trying his best not to laugh. "Not the smartest, are you, sweetheart? Maybe you haven't noticed but your dress is purple."

Glaring daggers at him, she kept her mouth shut, before turning to Chaff. "Is your friend always so rude?"

"Sorry, if you aren't crazy about me," Haymitch snapped. "But in less than an hour, I have to present my screenplay to one of Hollywood's most powerful filmmakers, and if he rejects me, I can just kick the script to the curb!"

He had been working on his latest screenplay for the last two years, and everyone he had shown it to so far had agreed that it was his best work yet. As a result, he was determined that this script at least wouldn't end up being performed as another ambitious but obscure theatre production that no one wanted to see except some old critic.

After all his years of writing he wanted more and, supported by his agent, Haymitch was sure that his masterpiece was good enough for the big screen in Hollywood. The story was so complex and demanding that only a big studio could produce it.

Unfortunately, the first production companies he'd contacted had already turned him down. They justified their decision by insisting that supporting an unknown writer was too risky when there was every chance the film would end as a huge flop…

Katniss's clear voice brought him back to the present. "And that's why you're both wearing these silly costumes?"

Chaff nodded, his eyes on the road before him. "Plutarch Heavensbee annual costume parties are legendary, Miss. Have you never heard of them? Without a proper Halloween costume, you won't get entrance to his luxury mansion tonight."

The young woman shook her head slightly. She'd never been heard of this party, but something else had caught her attention.

"What's the script about?"

"Come on, sweetheart, you aren't really interested," Haymitch snarled. "Better tell me where to go after the road sign."

"Why not?" she asked stubbornly. "I'm a keen reader."

"You?" the man arched an eyebrow, mocking her. "What kind of glossy, mindless gossip magazine do you prefer?"

She took in a deep breath. "I prefer the Hustler magazine, Mister. Maybe you've heard of it?"

Chaff's loud laugh filled the dark car, and Katniss was confident she'd brought the point home. Sure of herself, she leaned back against the black leather seat as the car came to stop at the red traffic lights.

"Listen!" he snarled, turning slowly around. "You've just taken 500 bucks from us for nothing, I'm wearing a fucking sticky felt on my head, and we're still miles away from Heavensbee's villa. The last thing I need is to talk to you about my screenplay!"

The young woman folded her arms over her chest, looking straight back into Haymitch's piercing eyes. "If you talk to Heavensbee like that, you'll never sell your precious script to his studio."

"Really?" he sneered. "How do you know? Are you friends with any powerful studio bosses, sweetheart?"

The young woman shrugged her shoulders and forced herself to stay calm. "I used to be a babysitter in Hollywood, so I know those kinds of…"

"Babysitting, you?" he asked, glancing straight at her low-cut neckline. "What kind of babysitting is that?"

"Mister," her dark eyes narrowed to slits. "Your green hair looks like shit." she hissed.

"Next time I want your opinion, girl," he snapped. "I gonna ask for it!"

Before they could jump at each other's throats, an orchestra of blaring car horns sounded from behind. The traffic lights had changed back to green and Haymitch turned around angrily, revving the engine.

No less furious, the young woman stared out the window. The money wasn't worth the trouble. Tomorrow morning, she would throw her few belongings into her worn-out suitcase, buy a ticket for a Greyhound bus and head back to Kentucky.

Surely, she would get a role in a provincial theatre, maybe go back to school or college...

"The story takes place in the distant future after an apocalyptic war." Chaff's calm voice filled the car, and Katniss could hear Haymitch inhale sharply.

"The female protagonist has to participate in the so-called Hunger Games," continued the man in the Batman costume, his black eyes fixed on the heavy traffic in front of them. "These games are fought every year in a huge open-air arena and every participant has to fight for his life. The last remaining competitor is crowned victor."

In the dark of the car you could have heard a pin drop before Katniss cleared her throat. "Wow," she said in awe. "That sounds fantastic!"

Haymitch's eyes glittered in the dark, meeting hers in the rear-view mirror. "Would you like to be president of my fan club, sweetheart?" he mocked.

"You are an arrogant asshole!" The Black Widow hissed, before turning her face away, glancing over the busy street while Chaff pulled his mask lower over his face, glad that neither of them could see the big grin on his lips.

...

Haymitch Abernathy raised his flask to his lips while his eyes moved over Heavensbee's opulent white mansion. It was lit up by countless spots, and on each marble step of the broad open staircase stood a servant dressed as a barefoot Roman slave with a silver tablet in his hand, greeting the guests with champagne.

His critical look followed the stars and starlets of Hollywood as they climbed out of their expensive limousines, walking slowly up the marble staircase. Most of the costumes had so little fabric that he wondered if he had landed in the Playboy mansion instead of Heavensbee's annual Halloween party.

Suddenly, a heavy hand rested on Haymitch's broad shoulder, and Chaff's deep voice whispered into his ear, "This is how I've always imagined heaven..."

"And how Dante always imagined hell," Haymitch pointed out sardonically, taking another sip from his flask.

"You're really boring, old friend." Chaff shook his head in amusement. "At least our charming companion won't be noticed."

"Who won't be noticed?" Katniss asked as she came to a stop behind the two men, her eyes glancing over the luxurious mansion.

Whatever she had expected, it had not been this. In her small hometown, on one night each year, each street was lovingly decorated with pumpkins and little lights, and the children dressed up as witches or magicians, running from door to door and begging for sweets.

But this Halloween party was all about seeing and being seen, and for the first time since the evening had begun, she felt as if her clothing covered too much skin.

"Mr. Livingston?" a female voice called from the marble steps. "Mr. Chaff Livingston?"

The three looked up as a beautiful blonde woman approached the trio. Chaff's jaw dropped as the dazzling beauty wove her way through the guests, her hips swinging gently with every step.

"Sell my house, Haymitch, I'm staying in Beverly Hills," Chaff said, licking his dry lips before beaming at the blonde beauty. "Miss Trinket?"

"Yes!" The smile on her red painted lips grew wider. "Please; call me Effie."

Chaff politely took her slender fingers in his and breathed an elegant kiss on the back of her hand.

Caught by surprise Effie laughed. "I was afraid you might not come. I couldn't reach you on your mobile…"

"Bad reception, sorry," Chaff muttered, somewhat embarrassed. "But may I introduce my friend and screenwriter, Mr. Haymitch Abernathy."

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Mr. Abernathy. I've heard only good things about you." She took Haymitch's outstretched hand in hers, and he wondered how it would feel to have those razor-sharp nails scratching over his bare shoulders.

Effie Trinket's bright gaze finally moved to the young woman at Haymitch's side. "And you are, Miss?"

The young woman looked up in surprise. "I'm, I'm..." she answered lamely as chills ran up and down her spine. She was deeply aware of the fact that no matter what she might say, she couldn't win. Finally, she took a deep breath, put on her best acting smile, and gracefully reached for Effie's outstretched hand.

"I'm Ka...Candy," Katniss said with as much confidence as she could muster, carefully avoiding the stunned looks of the two men. "Haymitch's muse."

"A muse?" Delighted, Effie clapped her hands together, her voice rising at least three octaves, ready to break glass. "That's wonderful! And such a gorgeous costume." Effie beamed enthusiastically at Katniss's short mini dress. "Fantastic, Plutarch will be pleased!"

Sure, that his best friend was eager to share some private words with his newfound muse, Chaff gallantly took Heavensbee's assistant by the arm and steered her toward the impressive staircase. "Let's go, Effie, we don't want to keep your boss waiting any longer..."

Katniss looked down at her clenched fingers. She could hear Haymitch taking a deep breath, and guessed this wasn't a good sign.

"Sorry, but I couldn't tell her that you– Ow!"

Not gently, Haymitch had pulled on one of her long, dark curls.

"Did you hit your head, sweetheart?" he growled, reaching for her bare arm. "You can't walk around telling the world you're my muse!" With a yank, he pulled Katniss to his side.

Furious, she glared at him, freeing herself from his painful grip. "Should I tell Miss Super Sexy that you were both too stupid to use your phones and that you picked me up next to a streetlamp in Downton?" she snapped, ready to fight. "I just wanted to help!"

"I don't need your help!" he hissed. "One more stupid move and I gonna put you over my knee."

"That will cost extra, Mister!" Katniss replied coldly, lifting her chin and straighten her back.

Finally, a smug smile appeared on his thin lips as he closed the remaining space between them, brushing his lips over her soft curls, enjoying her stubbornness. "No, sweetheart," he whispered into her ear. "It was included in the price."

...

Plutarch Heavensbee leant back in the old, worn out leather armchair, his bored pale blue eyes resting on Chaff and Haymitch. In his doughy hands, he was holding the screenplay which he had been studying closely over the last few weeks.

With a loud bang, he threw the script onto the monstrous glass table in front of him. "Gentlemen," he raised his voice. "I've read your screenplay, very ambitious, very passionate, but unfortunately I cannot see an audience for it."

The harsh words hit Haymitch like a blow. How could this be happening? All those hours of work torn apart by that cool, indifferent voice. Dully, as if from a distance, he heard Chaff speak.

"That's no problem, Mr. Heavensbee. We can rewrite the script, any time. If you like we could kick out the girl and put in a strong male character, couldn't we, Haymitch?"

Grinding his teeth, trying his best to stay calm, he gave his friend a short deadly glance: When hell freezes over.

Openly uninterested, Heavensbee listened to Chaff's words, before his gaze wandered further through the semi-dark room, coming to rest on Katniss's deep neckline. The pasty face of the heavyweight studio boss brightened considerably.

"The male viewers could identify with the character and we could give him a very attractive female co-star." Chaff's hands sketched very feminine curves in the air.

"Perhaps." Heavensbee shrugged, his eyes still on the young woman's firm breasts, his appetite stirring.

"Or how would it be if we had two male actors? We could have a love triangle." Chaff's eyes gleamed with passion, determined not to give up. "The girl must choose between the two heroes and a battle of love and death ensues."

"How would it be if the story stayed exactly as it is?" Katniss's cool voice sounded from the corner of the room and Heavensbee's weasel eyes found their way to her face. With satisfaction, he noted that her facial features complemented her well-formed body.

Nonchalantly, he reached for a bowl of green grapes on the table beside him, before turning to her. "And what is your opinion, Miss?"

The young woman straightened her back and held her chin high as she faced Plutarch calmly. Just like Chaff she wouldn't give up without a fight. Nevertheless, she felt her face heat up, very aware of the rows of awards mounted in the cabinet behind Plutarch, his power to make or break a career with a single wave of his heavy hand.

"There aren't enough roles for strong and courageous women in Hollywood." she raised her voice. "I want to see a heroine who is brave, self-confident and doesn't need a man to help her survive a battle!"

Totally unimpressed, Heavensbee pushed the grapes into his mouth. He loved passionate women, not as equal-ranking business partners, of course – but when they were warming his big, soft bed and were willing to suck his tiny cock, whenever he desired.

"We've already got Wonder Woman, darling," he challenged Katniss. "Is that not enough?"

"No!"

Heavensbee's grin widened as he looked from Katniss to Haymitch, who was staring at his _muse_ as if he would love to strangle her.

"Do you see my little friends at the back, girl?" With his thick thumb, the film mogul indicated the illuminated glass cabinet that each of his visitors had noticed the moment they'd entered the room. "Academy Awards aren't given away for free, and I got those golden boys because I have a nose for business. It's as simple as that." he shrugged his shoulders finally. "I'm sorry, but I don't see any future for your project."

The words had barely left his lips before he sent Katniss a long look that made her shiver. "But I'm always keeping an eye out for young and talented actresses." He gave her a shitty smile, licking over his dry lips, certain that he would see her again soon, hopefully on her knees.

After an uncomfortable pause, his gaze wandered to her companions.

"Very tasteful costumes, gentlemen, good evening."

...

Ice-cold water ran over Haymitch's wrists, clearing his thoughts. His hard work of years had been torn up by Plutarch Heavensbee in a matter of minutes. He knew that his screenplay – the whole idea – was brilliant, unique and that there had to be an audience for it somewhere.

His gaze fell on the grotesque mask in the mirror before him: the white face, blood red lips and deadly black-encircled eyes. He nearly laughed in disgust. What had he been thinking? How could he have been so ready to make an idiot of himself, all so that someone like Heavensbee could dash his hopes to pieces?

He reached for the soap dispenser, turned off the tap, and began to scrub his face and hair clean.

Not for another second would he wear this stupid costume as he let the water run through his longish hair, watching with satisfaction how the water ran in green streams down the sides of the white marble sink.

As the water finally cleared, he raised his head and examined his work in the elegantly polished mirror. Taking a soft guest towel from the rack, he began to dry his shaggy hair as the bathroom door opened quietly and a lascivious voice greeted him.

Haymitch looked up, nodded shortly, and recognized one of the young men who had served champagne on the marble steps. The toga draped over his muscular body had so ridiculously little fabric that Haymitch found himself wondering if it counted still as work clothes or fell under the sexual harassment category.

The stranger gave him a beaming smile, showing nearly every one of his white teeth, and for an uncomfortable moment Haymitch was reminded of a shark, looking for his dinner.

"Cool costume. Are you the Joker?" the stranger asked, moving deliberately towards Haymitch. "I bet my tunic that you look fantastic with green hair." The man stressed every syllable, reaching out to take a few strands of Haymitch's light hair in his hand, and looked at them dreamily with his sea green eyes.

Totally baffled, Haymitch simply stared back at him. He'd never been hit on by a man before, and his first thought was to give the brash pretty boy a well-placed right hook. But finally, he changed his mind, pushing the stranger's hand away and giving him a crooked smile. "Sorry, I'm not gay."

"Are you sure?" asked the broad-shouldered stranger, with a ravishing smile on his full lips. "Not even a little bit?"

"Yeah, I'm sure!

"A pity," he sighed and shrugged his bare shoulders. "It's always the same; all the hot men are either taken or straight; terrible."

...

Standing in Heavensbee's opulent garden, she let her gaze wander over the impressive grounds. A vista she only knew from glossy magazines stretched out right in front of her eyes. On the huge terrace behind the mansion, the party guests had gathered around a sprawling pool in their bizarre costumes, laughing and dancing to the sound of an edgy band.

The park-like garden was illuminated by the light of hundreds of lanterns and pumpkins, only surpassed by the stunning view of the skyline of Los Angeles. An endless sea of lights danced in front of Katniss's eyes as she became painfully aware that only a few hours ago she had been a tiny speck in that sea of lights and would be again soon.

"Champagne, Miss?" a clear voice asked behind her. Katniss turned and looked into the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen.

"Gladly," she answered, and reached with trembling fingers for a champagne flute.

"Are you an actress, Miss?" the waiter asked politely.

"Yes," she replied, slightly embarrassed, her eyes focused on the polished glass in her hand. "But so far I haven't acted in any productions."

The charming young man gave her a warm smile. "As attractive as you are, Miss, I'm sure you'll be a famous movie star one day."

Katniss could feel her face heat up: she wasn't used to compliments like this. Most of the boys at school hadn't liked her, describing her as cold as ice, and had tended to avoid her.

Slowly, she guided the champagne glass to her red lips. "What about you?" she asked between two long sips. "Are you an actor too?"

The waiter laughed softly, which made his warm eyes shine even more. "No, I'm a student at UCLA. I'd love to work with disabled children one day."

"Oh," Katniss said with awe. "That sounds very ambitious."

"Thank you," he answered modestly, his blue eyes fixed on her dark ones.

"Peeta!" A voice sounded sharply from the terrace, and the young man winced guiltily.

"Excuse me, Miss, but I have to go." He bowed politely before hurrying up the elegant white staircase. Her dark eyes followed him with a longing look.

"Make a conquest, sweetheart?" Haymitch drawled, bringing her back to present; she'd almost forgotten why she was here.

"Thanks for asking," she replied coolly, and turned on her heels.

Totally caught by surprise, Katniss let her eyes wander over his clean face and blonde hair. His hands were hidden deep in his pockets while his coat was hanging casually over one shoulder.

"Are you leaving?" she asked after a pause.

"Yeah."

"Can I come with you?"

Haymitch snorted, not bothering to look at her. "You took nearly 500 dollars off us tonight, Candy. I'd say a taxi ride back to Downtown is possible."

"My name's Katniss, not Candy," she called after him as he started walking across the park.

"Do you think I care?" he mocked.

Katniss drew a sharp breath and tried her best to stay calm as she followed him on his heels. "Please! I need every single dollar I can get: I can't afford to spend the money on a taxi or a bus ticket."

"Well, then, Katniss-Candy…" he stretched the name out, raising a hand in farewell, his back still turned to her. "You'll have to walk home..."

Katniss swallowed her pride as she hurried after him. "My mother is seriously ill: I need the money for her therapy."

Unimpressed, the man walked along the well-kept lawns until he reached the huge parking lot on the other side of the villa and turned around to face her.

"Do yourself a favor and audition for Les Miserables, sweetheart," he spat. "Maybe an amateur drama group will show mercy and give you a small part."

His harsh words hit her like a blow and Katniss gave him a look that could kill.

"I'm an actress!"

"Sure," he snarled. "Let me think, what were the names of those movies?"

His gaze wandered into the distance and his eyes narrowed as if he were thinking hard, finally his face lit up and smoothed the deep lines on his forehead. "Maybe Nympho..."

"I've played theater!" Katniss clenched her small hands into fists, and walked slowly towards him, a burning fire in her dark eyes. "I was by far the most talented drama student at my school."

"Theater?" Haymitch raised his eyebrows scornfully, unimpressed by her words or anger. "You?"

"Yes!" she retorted, ready to wipe the arrogant smirk off his face.

"Start."

"What?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Act," he snapped, losing patience with every minute that passed: the long day had exhausted him.

Katniss pressed her lips together and took up the challenge. Without saying a word, she took off her high heels one by one and threw them carelessly to the ground, never taking her gaze off his mocking eyes.

"Shakespeare, Twelfth Night, Viola's monologue."

The young woman took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she put her hands before her face. She was listening to her own heartbeat, gathering herself, and her angry, defiant features changed.

When she opened her dark eyes again, Katniss's face was soft and tender as she looked around her with curiosity. She raised her right hand slightly as if she were holding something in it, and her gentle features reflected bafflement, before she started to speak.

"I left no ring with her. What means this lady..."

Haymitch had hoped to shut her up with his harsh words, but the girl had easily caught his arrogance and thrown it right back in his face. Motionless, he watched her transformation from a femme fatale into a fair maiden disguised as a young attendant.

As a writer, he'd watched all kinds of plays, and he saw straight away that the young woman hadn't lied to him. Slowly, he circled her, watching her closely as her words and emotions changed from comedy to drama and back again.

"O Time, thou must untangle this, not I; It is too hard a knot for me t' untie."

So true, Haymitch thought, so true.

...

He took her against the car. It wasn't his style nor was he used to it, but he didn't care. It felt right, here in the middle of nowhere, surrounded only by desert and weeds as his rough lips brushed along her pale long neck down to her collarbone while his fingers buried themselves deep in her long dark curls.

"Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?" he prompted, tugging playfully on her long locks, making her gasp.

She would never admit it, but his lips on her bare skin felt fantastic, and Katniss shuddered in pleasure as his lips trailed down her shoulder while her skin tingled all over her body under his touch.

"Stop talking!" she panted into his mouth, before their lips met, fighting for dominance.

Letting go of her dark hair, taking in the smell of her smooth skin, his hands moved down to her short dress, pushing up the flimsy fabric, caressing her bare ass as he pressed his hips against her. "You're a lousy actress," he whispered in Katniss ear, challenging her.

For a brief moment, she stiffened and thought about making him pay for his insolence. A short but hard kick between his legs and his arrogance would be gone forever.

But then, stretching her full lips into a rare smile, she gave up the stupid idea and let her hands wandered under his shirt, sliding her long fingernails roughly across his broad back as if she knew he'd like it. "I'm good," she insisted, pulling him closer as if she wanted to crawl inside him.

"Show me," he pushed out, pinning her hard against the car, pressing himself between her thighs while his hands found their way into her deep neckline, pulling and tugging until he had freed her firm breasts.

Bending down, he explored her soft white flesh and played eagerly with her hard nipples until she squirmed, begging desperately for more.

Finally, ready to satisfy his own needs, his own desire, Haymitch unzipped his pants, grabbing her leg and hooking it around his hip, shoving her thong aside and pushing himself into her.

Right to the hilt.

Panting, not used to get stretched so hard and fast, Katniss closed her eyes, burying her fingers deep into his broad shoulders while she threw her head back, enjoying the sweet agony between her thighs as Haymitch started moving.

Slowly at first, then harder, faster, he rocked steadily against the most sensitive part in her body, and she whispered his name like a prayer, begging for more as his large hand find its way to her over-sensitive nibbles, pinching them ruthless, until she gasped.

As his thrusts become harder, more irregular, she could feel the familiar tightening in her lower body, and desperately the girl reached out, buried her teeth deep in his neck as the orgasm hit her, tearing her apart.

Still shuddering, gasping for air as he came down from his own peak, he rested his sweaty forehead against hers, whispering into her hair. "You're a damn good actress, sweetheart…"

...

His mobile phone rang loudly, but he ignored it, burying himself deeper under the pillows.

Whoever was on the other end of the line had patience. Once more it began to ring and Haymitch vowed to himself to throw it out of the window as soon as he got up. Finally, the caller gave up and he let out a sigh of relief – just as his landline began to ring.

Cursing colorfully, he rolled out of bed, ready to rip the phone out of the wall. Grabbing the receiver, he yelled into it. "Abernathy!"

"Jesus, Haymitch, where are you?" Chaff sounded mystified.

Haymitch suppressed a snarl. "At home, you moron, or we wouldn't be talking right–"

"Shut up! I have fantastic news!" There was a dramatic pause and Haymitch could hear the sound of his heart pumping.

"Heavensbee wants to produce your screenplay!" Chaff screamed into the phone and Haymitch felt the ground shift under his feet. "We should come to Hollywood as soon as possible and discuss everything." Suddenly, Chaff's voice dropped in volume. "There's just one slight problem..."

Haymitch could hear his blood roared in his ears.

"Plutarch is insisting that your muse has to be the lead actress."

With a loud bang, Haymitch dropped the phone, running his shaking hands over his pale face.

"Do you know where we can reach Candy?" Chaff's voice asked from the phone handset, which was dangling only a few centimetres above the old wooden floor.

 _'Fortune is a frivolous girl...' Isn't it, Haymitch?_

* * *

Thanks for 'Katniss & Haymitch – Play Dead' on YouTube for inspiration.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Where did she get off?"

"No idea, Chaff. Here, there…"

"In which direction did she go?"

"How should I know?" Haymitch snapped. "I wasn't watching her!"

"Did she tell you where she lives, what she does...?"

"No!"

Frustrated, Haymitch kicked against an empty can lying on the dirty curb while his eyes wandered restlessly up and down the endless streets of Los Angeles.

How were they supposed to find a young woman of whom the only thing they knew was her name?

Forty-eight hours after Heavensbee's call, both men had returned to the West Coast, totally clueless about how they should find the girl or how to explain the situation to the powerful studio boss. Telling Plutarch the truth wasn't an option.

"Are you telling me you didn't talk to each other for the whole ride?" Chaff eyed his friend suspiciously. "You must really hate each other."

Haymitch saw no reason to answer the question. After her convincing performance, he had shown mercy and had taken her back to downtown LA in his car. What had happened next, he couldn't explain. Even to himself. Had it been her sexy dress, her provocative nature or the simple fact that she liked his script which had attracted him?

But finally, one thing had led to another. No words had been needed as their eyes had met in the dark and the spark had leaped over. As much as he had enjoyed every second of her body, as he looked into the mirror afterwards, he'd had to wonder if he had lost his mind completely.

When was the last time he had had unprotected sex with a complete stranger? His best guess was back when Clinton was in charge.

Haymitch shook his head, forcing his thoughts back to the present.

"Listen, Chaff, the girl said she's an actress: she must be registered somewhere."

"That's it!" Chaff cried, clapping his hands together. "We'll split up and canvass all the acting agencies in town until we find Candy."

"Katniss," Haymitch answered, running a hand over his forehead, feeling the beginning of a headache.

"What?" Chaff demanded.

"She said her name is Katniss."

Triumphantly, Chaff shot him a long glance. "I knew you two were talking to each other."

...

Even after living there for nearly a year, Katniss still wasn't used to the 15 square-meter confines of her apartment. It was impossible to move, to sit or to sleep without feeling cramped, and her dull gaze wandered from the flyspeck on the wall, to the smelly sink, and out through the dirty window. The view was as pitiful as her accommodation. A collection of filthy, stinking garbage cans, neglected in a courtyard, where rats fought deadly battles for the filth by night.

She sighed and ran a hand through her thick, black hair. Soon her Hollywood adventure would be over. At the end of the coming month she would travel home. In all the months she'd been here she hadn't been given a single role, and she was forced to face the fact that her talent and appearance weren't good enough to get even a single small part in a movie.

She should have given Heavensbee her phone number. That would have been the easiest way to get famous, _literally_ _overnight._ Katniss laughed bitterly. Who would have judged her? No one. Except herself. But the thought of feeling his lecherous hands on her bare skin made her shudder. No, she wasn't so desperate as to sell her body and soul so cheaply.

Depressed, she reached for her worn-out sneakers and pulled them on. In less than an hour she would attend the casting for a radio spot. Although she was sure she wouldn't get this job, she wanted to make the most of one of her last remaining chances.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and she turned her head toward it.

"Miss Everdeen?"

Her eyes narrowed as she recognized the voice, and the girl got to her feet reluctantly, opening the door. The landlord of this rat hole was standing on her doormat, smelling so strongly of sweat and cheap aftershave that Katniss' empty stomach nearly turned over.

"So, miss, what about the rent?" he asked with a rolling accent.

"Sorry, I don't have any money right now," Katniss explained, telling the truth. Haymitch's and Chaff's dollars were already safe and far away in her mother's bank account. "Could you give me a few days extra?"

The man laughed hoarsely. "If I had a penny for every time, I'd be rich." He wiped his nose with the back of his hand, a suggestive smile on his fleshy lips.

"I'll pay the rent as soon as –"

"Saw you on Halloween," he interrupted, licking over his teeth. "Wearing a very short dress." His grin widened. "I know how you could pay back the rent..."

For a second she simply stared at the man, blinking, before she found her voice again. "Please, I'll…"

With a loud bang, the landlord kicked the door open and grabbed her upper arm and long hair, burying his nails deep. Ruthlessly, he hit her skull against the brick wall, pressing his sweaty body against her slender back, and although she was tall and strong, Katniss had no chance against an opponent like him.

"You'll be nice to me…" he gasped into her ear as his fingers closed like steel vices over her wrists, pushing them forcefully against the wall.

She knew only too well that calling for help was pointless: none of her neighbors gave a damn about her. She kicked at him, struggling, trying her utmost to free herself from his painful grip.

"Let her go!" The voice was sharp, edgy, resolute. "Let her go or I'll kill you!"

There was no doubting the words, and the landlord let go of the girl, raising his sweaty hands where Haymitch could see them.

"Call the cops, Chaff!" Abernathy spat, never letting the scum out of his sight.

"No!" Katniss' dark eyes found his, pleading, before she turned her face away.

"Katniss!" Haymitch growled. "We can't let him go. If it's not you, it's gonna be someone else..."

"No." She pleaded again, avoiding his penetrating gaze, starring at the filthy rug under her shoes.

He stopped, struggling with himself. Despite his better judgment, he gave in. Cursing viciously, he punched a fist against the wall.

"You heard what I said," he growled, face close to the landlord's. He pointed with his sharp knife toward the hallway. "Get out of here!"

"You'll pay for it, bitch!" the scum hissed, shooting the girl a long glance, and made it clear that he wasn't finished with her, before he slammed the door forcefully into the lock.

Katniss swallowed hard. Shaking her hair back from her face she lifted her chin, trying her best to be brave. As always. But finally, she sobbed, pressing her hands against her snow-white face, stumbling as strong hands caught her, embracing her tightly.

...

She held her duffel bag against her chest like a protective bulwark. In a hurry, she had packed her few belongings and followed the two men blindly. To her surprise, a chauffeur-driven limousine had been waiting for them on the curb, surrounded by curious residents of the shabby houses.

So far, no one in the car had spoken a single word, and Katniss was still in shock. She had always thought she was strong, indestructible. But it seemed as if her self-assessment had been completely wrong. Her body was still trembling. She hadn't even dared to ask where her rescuers were taking her. She just wanted to get away and never to look back again.

The luxury limousine was winding through the hills of Hollywood, and Katniss peered through the blacked-out windows, trying to distract herself. One impressive mansion followed another, surrounded by park-like gardens with regal palm trees, stretching their leaves towards the blue, endless skies.

Feeling small and insignificant, her gaze moved to Haymitch, who sat on the opposite side of the darkened car. His longish hair had fallen deep into his face, his large hands held a glass of whiskey. As soon as they had got into the car, he had poured himself a drink from the minibar, offering her a glass, but Katniss had refused, fearing her trembling hands would betray her.

Slowly, the limousine came to a stop in front of a pair of ornate iron gates. The young woman couldn't imagine what they wanted here, but she still did not dare to ask and her hands played nervously with the handles of her scuffed bag.

Chaff's booming voice broke the silence, and Katniss flinched involuntarily. "Are you feeling better?" he asked friendly.

The girl tried her best to pull herself together and put a slight smile on her lips but she failed miserably.

"How did you find me?" Katniss asked, not attempting to answer his question.

Chaff smirked and raised his bushy eyebrows. "We've spent the last five days canvassing all the acting agencies in Hollywood, looking for you."

The lavish gates opened and the car passed through, and Katniss wondered what all this meant. Suddenly, the penny dropped and she scowled at the two men. "You want your money back!"

Chaff laughed out loud and shook his head, glancing at his friend.

Finally, Haymitch turned to face the girl, his eyes fixed on her, drawing her dark eyes to his. "Heavensbee wants to produce our script."

For several seconds, nothing could be heard except the crackling ice cubes in Abernathy's drink, before Katniss found her voice again.

"Really?"

"Guess who'll be playing the lead role," he drawled.

Confused, Katniss looked from one man to the other. "I don't know," she stuttered. "I'm not good with names, maybe, maybe Em–"

"You."

Totally baffled, Katniss stared back at him, uncertain if she had heard right. The single word rang in her ears, mocking her. "No, that can't be…"

His blue eyes glittered, hard and piercing, making her shiver as he raised the crystal glass in his hand, saluting her. "Heavensbee just wants you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"What if she doesn't agree to the deal?"

"She will," Haymitch replied.

Chaff laughed humorlessly. "How can you tell? You don't even like her."

Haymitch glanced up, frowning as he leaned wearily against the luxurious bar. The last few days had worn him out, even if he would never admit it out loud.

"Have I ever said that?" he asked in a low tone, his large fingers playing with a corkscrew.

"So far you haven't exactly spoiled her."

Abernathy snorted, sounding irritated. "You know me, Chaff, I don't pamper anyone."

"You better start," Chaff said dryly. "Maybe she's worth it."

Thoughtfully, Haymitch gazed at the polished glass in his hand, before taking a generous sip. The exquisite liquid ran down his throat, burning like a flame in his gut.

"She won't refuse, Chaff," he answered, rubbing his stubbled jaw. "She has talent, she's smart, beautiful; why should she turn down this golden opportunity to get rich and famous?"

"How do you know the girl has talent?" Chaff raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "Maybe she moves like a sack of potatoes if you put her in front of a camera."

"Intuition," Haymitch answered, a slight smile on his face.

He hadn't told his friend about her brilliant Shakespeare performance or what had happened afterwards on a lonely road in the middle of nowhere. Haymitch was no peacock. He wasn't interested in telling anybody about his love life, even it was usually dying of boredom.

Chaff, on the other hand, had talked endlessly about Effie Trinket's skillful tongue. So endlessly that Haymitch had threatened to kick him out of the car if he didn't stop.

Haymitch's tired eyes fell on his old smartphone, lying on the highly polished bar in front of him. Soon it would be midnight, and Cinderella's time to think about the leading role would run out.

Glancing at his best friend, Chaff put his feet up on the luxurious, snow-white leather couch. "Which one of us will ask her?"

"I'll go, Chaff," Haymitch said as he ran a hand over his exhausted, strained face, simply glad the day was finally over. "It's my screenplay, I owe it to her."

Chaff just shrugged and put a soft pillow under his head, wishing his friend good luck.

Heavensbee had provided them his huge mansion for as long as he was in the Bahamas. He was accompanied by two young models, to figure out which one would be worth giving a minor role in his latest production.

Shuffling down the hallway, past tasteful, decorative furnishings, Haymitch climbed up the elegant staircase to the first floor, found the right door and knocked.

No response.

"Katniss?" he asked, knocking once more. This time louder, more determined, but still no-one answered.

Slightly worried, he slipped into the darkened room, his eyes taking a moment to get used to the blackness. Katniss stood on the terrace, leaning against the balustrade, staring unseeingly at the impressive sea of lights, lost in thought. He hoped good ones.

Crossing the room silently, Haymitch entered the patio through the open glass door, and cool evening air brushed against his face.

"Hi, sweetheart," he said, moving next to her.

The girl didn't look up as he took in the sight of her long eyelashes, the flickering of her eyelids, and he remembered painfully how good her bare, smooth skin had felt against his body. Clearing his dry throat, he forced his thoughts back to the present.

"At least Heavensbee's mansion has a nice view," he mocked, giving his voice a snarky tone.

Katniss just shrugged, not turning her eyes toward him. "Why me?" she asked in a soft voice.

Haymitch leaned casually against the cold balustrade. "It's like I said. Heavensbee wants you to make the movie; nobody else."

As the meaning of his words reached her mind, a cold shiver ran down her spine. What if Plutarch Heavensbee didn't see her as a young, talented artist, but as just another eager young starlet who could warm his large bed?

Reading her face like an open book, Haymitch cursed himself for his thoughtless words. "Forget Heavensbee!" He clasped his warm palms on her bare forearms, tightening his grip. "By the time production starts, he won't be able to stop it, no matter what he asks you to do, okay?"

She stared at him, troubled, trying to ease the tight sensation in her chest.

It was her choice, her decision.

Finally, she nodded.

...

She was eager to give him something back.

Something good.

Katniss ran her fingers up and down his shaft, before bending her head, licking him from the root to the tip. She repeated the move until he was panting, and the girl tightened the grip around his member as she swirled her tongue over his sensitive's glans, teasing him.

Hearing him groan, she smiled to herself and enjoyed his arousal while her hands moved on, scratching her short-cut nails along his inner thighs as her mouth moved up and down, finding her own rhythm.

Finally, he reached out, and buried his heavy hands in her dark curls, taking control of her movements, setting a pace that he preferred. Hearing his breath come faster, more irregularly she broke away from his iron grip and Haymitch looked up, irritated, wondering what cruel game she was playing.

On all fours, she crawled over him, giving him a nice view of her naked, gorgeous body while her dark eyes never left his. The girl wanted more than only to run her tongue along his member: she wanted everything.

She couldn't put into words what she found so appealing, so arousing in him, but his strong hands made her felt wanted, desired. It was pure bliss to sink down onto him, feeling his hard erection inside her.

His strong fingers were buried deep into her hips as she rode him, simply gratified to hear him groan her name as her body flexed around his penis. Soon his thrusts became harder, his grunts growing louder as he ground his hips almost painfully against her entrance, and with a final, last thrust he took Katniss over the edge with him.

Catching her breath, the girl collapsed totally satisfied on his broad chest, and Haymitch pulled her closer, pressing soft kisses against her sweaty forehead as she smiled to herself.

He was perfect, in every possible way.

* * *

Continue: 31.10.2020 :)


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